


Over and Over again

by MikiDetter



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Feels, Broken Promises, Choking, Drunk Sex, F/M, Feels, Heartbreak, Implied Relationships, Motorcycles, Original interpretation of character, Other, POV Second Person, Promises, Rough Sex, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9855701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikiDetter/pseuds/MikiDetter
Summary: A beautiful liar,Love for him is pain.The temples are now burning,Our faith caught up in flames.I need a new direction,Cause I have lost my way.A lifetime of consumptionThey've all become the sameI punish you with pleasureAnd pleasure you with pain





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to this playlist while writing.  
> http://spoti.fi/2lIDeQ2

 It was not weird anymore to go to that same bar and find the same skeletal monster sitting on the same place. Smoking, both hands on the counter with his skull resting on his hand and a very sad and threatening look peeking through the hole on his hands. The dark, short-torso leather jacket with grayish fur on the neck and the skinny black pants that always seemed to be with an extra hanging belt or chain and biker boots.  
 You knew exactly how he was sitting just by peeking through the bar door. You got a drink from someone's abandoned table and walked in his direction, turning all the alcohol in one gulp, and left the glass in someone else's table. That was your second drink tonight. You knew you were going to need it.  
 As you got closer, you could see his scars. "Scars", a friendly name you'd give the cracks on his skull. You noticed something else. He was having whiskey tonight, and the shirt underneath the leather jacket was not a loose black tee, but a dark purple turtleneck. There was also this leather bracelet on his wrist, both things you have never seen him wearing before. Just when you were arriving at the bar counter, he laid back on the bar stool and crossed one leg over the other. He was bothered by something, and it wasn't the usual "bothered by the world and existence" thing he had.

 You made a signal to the barman. He knew you'd take the same as always, so he nodded and you sat a stool away from the tall, edgy skeleton.  
 "Tired of old habits?"  
 He looked at you, barely moving his skull in your direction. The yellow lights that acted like eyes on the pitch black of his eye sockets seemed bothered that you were there. But you were used to it.  
 "Like you? Yeah."  
 His gaze fell on his glass, on the bar counter. He seemed off, lost in his thoughts, more than usual.  
 "Sometimes revisiting old habits make you feel more at ease."  
 The bartender left your glass on the counter, in front of you. You grabbed it and took a sip, almost not looking away from the monster. He drew his yellow lights to you again and let out the smoke. He seemed to be keeping it for a while, and it seemed as he were sighing at your words.  
 "Old habits make me sick."

 You looked away. You knew that was his way of dealing with things. You knew he was always rude like that. You were used to it. You took another sip of your drink, a bigger one this time. You had to turn it around. That's how it always happened, that's how it always worked.

 "I didn't know you could get sick from smoking, Mr. Skeleton."  
 He threw what was left of his cigarette away, leaning forward and resting his elbows and arms on the counter again. Then he held his glass of whiskey.  
 "And I didn't know you could make me sick of words, Ms. Human Female."  
 You thought he was taking a sip of the whiskey, but he turned it all in and left the glass on the counter.  
 "You're bothering me, what do you want?"

 His words were sharp. You knew it, it shouldn't bother you anymore. If you could get past the knives you'd have a great time. That's how it was.  
 "Nothing. I just came to get a booze and saw a familiar face."  
 "Your shit talk is not working tonight."

 What? Oh... He was not playing games, then.  
 You drank the rest of whatever was in your glass and took a deep breath, your eyes laying on the bracelet.

 "Never saw you using accessories before."  
 "It was a gift. Fits my style."  
 "Indeed."

 The way he laid back on the stool made him seem even more uninterested on your presence. He was avoiding to look at you. The weird silence was a bit too much and you felt a bit annoyed by it.  
 "Usually you come here to get someone new to take home."  
 "Yeah, usually."  
 "Doesn't seem like the case tonight."  
 "You're perceptive."

 Another cigarette was pulled from his jacket's pocket, and another annoyed sigh after he didn't find something else. You offered him your lighter, and even though he was still with the "I don't want you here" look on his eyes, he accepted. You lit it up, and he leaned in so the tip of the cigarette would touch the flame.  
 The way the light of the flame touched his skull was stunning. For many the sight of a living skeleton would be scary, terrifying. And to see it so close to them would be a thriller story. But he didn't scare you at all. It never did. The first time you saw him you were amazed, even if you thought you'd never see him again. You did see him again the next day, and the other. Then again the other week, and then he always seemed to be there whenever you went to that same bar.  
 And now, looking at how the light would go in his scars, how the bright round yellow on his eyes were still visible and vivid even with the flame's light near, the way his black eye holes weren't affected by it, you were still amazed. The sight warmed your heart. He was looking directly at your eyes while lightning the cigarette, but closed them before going to the exact same position he was before, letting out the smoke. In your eyes, he was a beautiful but painful representation of what 'stunning' means.

 You let out a disappointed sigh as soon as you managed to stop staring. You wanted him greatly, and you knew you'd never get him.

 "Why do you keep coming after me?"

 The question brought you back to reality.

 "Coming after you? What makes you think of such... Hahaha. I just keep running into you. That's all."  
 He actually looked at you now, for a few seconds, not saying a word. You felt a drop of sweat running down the side of your face.  
 "How much did you drink already?"  
 "W-why would that matter?"

 Your nervousness seemed uninteresting. He backed off and you could see his cigarette was already halfway gone. Skeletons like him didn't really have to breathe, so sometimes he'd end a full cigarette in a couple of minutes. You let your sight fall onto your lap, and a few more moments of silence fell between you. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you felt that needle-like pain in your heart speaking louder.  
 "I missed you."  
 A low chuckle made you think you screwed up again. But his eyes were closed. He really seemed a bit more relaxed.  
 "That's a funny thing to say." 

 In some other situation, you'd think he was mocking you. But right now it only seemed like whatever you did, it went better than whatever you were doing before.

 "You're being honest. I'll go with you."   
 "What?"  
 "I didn't want to see any human soul today, yet you're here, almost begging me to fuck you."   
 "Wha- I didn't..." 

 You stopped yourself. You knew it and he knew it too, from the start. It didn't have to be obvious for you both to know how the game worked. He was staring at you, with the annoyed slash uninterested look on his face again, cigarette hanging on the side of his mouth. You sighed in defeat. At least you were going to get what you came here for. 

 "I'm on my feet. Give me a ride?" 

 Sighing and standing up, he put out his cigarette on the counter, getting an annoyed look from the bartender. The quite generous tip he left right after seemed to make up to it. He fit his skeletal hands on the front pockets of his black jeans and you couldn't help but admire him once again. There was just no explanation on how stunning he was. It took you a while to realize he was handing you a motorcycle helmet.   
 "Don't waste my time." 

 Maybe ten bucks was not enough for your drink that day, but you could deal with the bartender later. You took the helmet and he started walking, and you followed him. Leaving from the back door, the same as always again. Watching his back as he walked brought back memories. You saw it too much, in way too many scenarios. You felt it all again, scene by scene.  
 The first time you went out that door, the first time he gave you a ride. The day he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the bar because the music was annoying. The night he left you in front of your place and walked away, saying he didn't want no business with you. The night he left you out in the rain. The night you met again, and he said he didn't mind your presence. The night he said he was done with you and was tired of seeing your face, but you ended up having sex anyway. Following him to his bike and putting the helmet on, you started to remember all the times you were on that motorcycle. All the times he gave you a ride, the way he would tell you not to touch 'weird parts' before arriving at your place. By the moment you sat behind him on the motorbike, your heart took control of your arms and you embraced him. He turned his head a bit, staring at you, but your head was resting on his back. He started the bike and you were off on your memories again.   
 There was no way you wouldn't, finally being able to smell his unique scent again. His whole aura, right there in your arms. Your heart was beating in a soothing pace, but intensely. Every little uniqueness about him made you love him more. But of course, that word was prohibited. "Love". It felt so wrong but so right, you felt it going round and round in your head. You knew you were definitely drunk by now, but the feelings were still the same. You did fall in love with the edgy skeleton, and it never went off. Even though he would avoid you many times, even though he was rude, even though he was a monster. You couldn't help it. You just enjoyed everything about him. And you would forget easily the intensity of that. 

 "Get off." 

 Rude. But it was his voice. You did get off, but you didn't really know where you were. 

 "This is not my place..."   
 "No."  
 "Izzit your place?"   
 "No. Let's go." 

 Something felt wrong about it. You followed him, walking surprisingly still. They asked for your ID. _ID? Why?_ Then you had to go up two sets of stairs. There were a lot of rooms. _Why did he pick that one?_ He locked the door behind you. 

 "What are we doing here?"   
 "You like this place."   
 "I do?" 

 He was taking his jacket off. Your shoes. His belt fell on the floor. Your coat. His boots were cautiously placed near the bed.  _When did you lay down?_ He was above you. His mysterious yellow eyes gazing directly at yours.  _When did he take out his shirt?_ His rib cage was showing. You found it amazing. He was only bones all the way. You were touching it, smiling. 

 "What are you..." 

 His words ended halfway.  _Did them?_ He closed his eyes. He seemed to be at ease. You let your hand wander through his torso. You ended up touching his back, or better, his spine. He was panting. You made him feel good.  _Did he really like that?_ Suddenly, a boney hand on your neck. 

 "Stop it." 

 Your air was missing. Your hands fell on the bed again. Suddenly, you could breathe again. You heard zippers.  _Since when were you both undressed?_ His hands were all over you. The wetness between your legs felt weird. Something soft and wet was sliding trough your stomach.  _A tongue, maybe?_ You felt fingers on your tights. Hard, skinny fingers. Going through your inner tights, coming up...  And on the side of your stomach, scratching a bit... You mind was dozing off. A tight grasp on your breast, pinching your nipple. 

 "You're making too much noise."

 "... Complaning?"

 Chuckles. Naughty, dirty chuckles. He held you up, and you were sitting in front of him, naked. His tongue playing around your neck, his shiny magical dick exposed and hard. You wanted it. You tried to reach it. You touched it. It was wet. _He was feeling that good?_ You grabbed it, and started stroking it. The feeling of it in your hands was making you desperate, and apparently it was making him desperate as well. You were fully conscious for a second: The second he bite your shoulder. 

 You thought you were yelling, but you were moaning. It didn't seem to have made any holes, but it was definitely red. He pushed you back down on the bed, and held your legs, pulling them so his hips were in between them. Your arms were laying above your head, and you were dozing off again. Another moment of full consciousness: He was roughly and fully inside you. 

 

 

 A sharp, loud moan came out of your mouth. He made no ceremony, quickly he picked up his pace and was fucking you hard and deep, holding one of your legs over his shoulder and apparently paying a lot of attention to your face. Soon he was panting, and you were stunned with his pleasured expression. You'd pretend to have your eyes closed all the time, but you couldn't help looking at him. He really was enjoying himself. You were both sweating when he started slowing down the rhythm and held your legs up, bending your knees over your torso. The thrusts were even more intense, and he soon let go of your legs and his hands were near your head. His hips were moving slow and deep, and you couldn't help but stare. 

 Suddenly, you saw his gaze fall on you. You’ve been looking right into his eyes, even though he had his eyes closed. Seeing his face full of pleasure like that was surely something not seen so often. He stopped his movements, and a malicious smirk changed the whole expression to something else. 

 “Stop looking at me.”

 You couldn’t react. His hands were pressed against your throat. Tight. Too tight. It was hard to breathe. And you were just slipping out of counciousness when he started thrusting in deep again. And you were in the verge of going crazy with that mixture of pleasure and despair. 

 "More"

 There was no way to tell if the voice was in your head, if you said it, if he said it. All made sense. He had one hand supporting his weight on the bed and the other holding firmly on your hair. Your voice was all mixed with panting and some groans, and it would always seem like you were in the verge of cumming, but then he'd stop and change positions. 

 You fucked in every possible position. You were on fours, and he pulled you back with hands on your neck, pulling your hair while licking your back and shoulder, coming up to your ear. He picked you up and pressed your back against the wall, holding your hips and invading your mouth with his tongue. He laid down and left you straddling him, and you rode him like the crazy human he'd call you. 

 Everything was so intense you didn't realize how many times you came. You didn't realize how many times he came. You both just kept going on and on. You both fucked until you were exhausted. And your consciousness was really fading out. 

 There was no telling if you slept, if he slept, and for how long. There were only flashes. 

 

 He was wearing his pants. You were way too sleepy. 

 "You leaving?"

 "I have to."

 "Do you work or somezin?"

 "Go back to sleep. "

 "I'll see u again, right?" 

 He sighed and looked at you. 

 "Let's not make promises, ok?"

 "But zats our motto..." 

 That same chuckle from earlier. You smiled, and closed your eyes at the feeling of hands caressing your hair. 

\-----

"It's paid until 2PM. Your ID is still at the reception hall. Take a cab home."

 The handwriting of that note on the side table was beautiful and you just didn't know who it was from. Last night was a blur, but you could recognize you were on a motel room.

 Walking your way to the shower, a few things on the way we're triggering your memory. 

 Your clothes from last night were folded and over a table, but they were scattered all around the floor before. Both towels on the hanger were still wet, and you remembered the bathtub. It was empty, but also wet. As you turned on the shower, the water was cold, and you remembered the bathtub water was too hot. _Why? What was that?_ Fixing the shower temperature, you looked for the tiny hotel soap, and next to it, a wet leather bracelet. That was the key point to all your memories, all started coming back at once and tears started rolling down your cheeks. More and more until you let yourself sit on the bathroom floor, crying. 

 You were too drunk again. You didn't get to date him sober. You broke your promise again. That's why he seemed bothered with your presence on the bar. He knew you were drunk. You failed him again. 

 And yet he folded your clothes, paid more hours than needed and left a careful note so you'd not freak out in the morning. 

 He still cared about you. He was wearing the bracelet you gave him. But now he wasn't anymore. You failed him. You were over again, because you couldn't get yourself to say you loved him deeply. You failed him because you couldn't face him sober. You broke another promise. You went to him drunk, and he said yes to the casual fuck again.

 "Lets not make promises" 

 Promises... That word would haunt you forever. 

 You were leaving the motel with your wet hair back. In your hand, a careful note. In your wrist, a wet and almost torn apart leather bracelet. In your eyes, the weight of the unstoppable tears. 

 In your heart, the mayhem of loving a monster. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably editing this over and over again, lol.


End file.
